


In the Dark of Gotham...

by Abbyromana



Series: Todd's Detective Agency [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbyromana/pseuds/Abbyromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gotham has always had its secrets. Detective Jason Todd is a man out to undercover them for the right price. One day, fate appeared outside of his office with a secret that would change his world forever, whether he liked it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Another Morning...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lethargicProfessor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/gifts).



> This is a Batman Family Christmas Exchange 2014 Gift.  
> Since this story sort of exploded well beyond the original requirement, I plan on posting as much as I can now, and then over the next several days (possibly leading up to Christmas) to post the rest.
> 
> Please be patient, because there is plenty more to come for the head-strong and stubborn Detective Jason Todd and the rest of the Batfamily in this 1940s mystery adventure.
> 
> By the way, the depiction of Jason is a combination of two different Jason Todds - the street rat and the acrobat of the pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths.

On a very cold Tuesday morning, Jason was just struggling to stay on his feet. A splash of cold water in the third floor restroom of the Bent Building didn’t help. And he would kill for a cup of mud right now.

More than feeling beat, Jason knew he looked it. He still wore yesterday's dress shirt and striders. They were sweat soaked and wrinkled with a few buttons randomly undone. His hair was uncombed. There was a five o’clock shadow across his jawline.

Despite that, his tired eyes still spotted the female figure leaning next to his partially open office door. He stopped a few feet away from her. A blindingly bright stream of sunlight flooded through a hallway window, obscuring her face.

“Good morning.” He heard her honey coated voice. “You wouldn’t happen to be Detective Jason Todd, would you?”

For a moment, Jason couldn’t find his voice. He blamed it on the exhaustion and the dull ache in his lower back from sleeping upright all night. “Um. Uh.”

As she effortlessly pushed away from the wall and took a casual step forward, Jason’s throat tightened more. The radiant hallo of sunlight perfectly accented the smooth curls of her golden blonde hairstyle and warm, cream colored face. She was breath-taking!

There was a bite-worthy kink to her ruby red lips. The kind of color that tempted a guy to ask its actual name. In fact, the lipstick color was just as eye-catching as her dress suit’s deep shade of purple. He could spend a day just admiring them alone.

For a moment, Jason swore she was a dame with loads of moolah. The well-tailored threads fit her too well - all her curves and points. The straight-lined skirt hugged her smooth hips in just the right ways, sliding effortlessly down her well-toned calves.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he coughed before trying to speak again. “And why would a pretty dame like you be looking for a two-bit gumshoe like him?”

That cute kink of hers grew to curve those ruby lips even more. Her initial response was like music to his ears – a shower of warm amusement. More of a champagne giggle, he might even say. Then, she gave him an enticing response, “No. Not for me. For my employer. He has a job for him. A mystery. Something my employer would pay quite handsomely for.”

The mention of lots of greenbacks made Jason’s eyebrows jump up his forehead. “Don’t say.”

Taking another couple of slow, decisive steps closer, she teasingly asked, “So are you him or should…?”

“You got your man! Definitely. I mean, I’m the man! Your man!!” he said quickly, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

Jason saw that cute kink dim. She paused in step. Her brow furrowed rather too deeply for Jason’s liking.

But Jason was quick to fix it all. He put on his most charming grin. “Sorry. I mean to say yes. I am him.” He extended a hand out between them. “I’m Detective Jason Todd. And you are?”

The uncomfortable pause continued a moment more.

Slowly, the unease gave way to the cute kink in her ruby red lips. “Stephanie. Stephanie Brown, Mr. Todd.” She had a strong, confident handshake, but her hand felt soft against this own callused touch. He felt a shiver run through him and regretted letting go.

He brushed off the sensation. Instead, he dug his hands into his pockets. “Jason,” he corrected with a wink. “You can call me, Jason, Honey.”

She blinked at him, giving him a critical look. All the while her cute smile didn’t waver. “Jason,” she repeated, seeming to taste the name. “And you can call me Stephanie.”

“Will do... Stephanie. Now… perhaps we should step into my office to talk in more detail about your employer’s case.” He gestured toward his open office door.

“After you, Jason,” she said with a nod.

For the first time today, Jason felt pretty swell. A pretty dame and the promise of making some serious greenbacks tended to do that for him. Anything to keep hunger, the rent collector, and the Recession at bay. He was already feeling reason enough to be fully awake.

Then, he heard Stephanie stifle a gasp.

He paused in step, glancing back at her. “What?”

Standing in the doorway, Stephanie had a rigid posture. Her eyes were wide as she gripped her matching handbag. Her gaze snapped in his direction one moment. Both of her thinly drawn eyebrows rose in question. The next moment, her sight returned to taking in the content of the front office. “Oh… okay.”

Jason raised his own eyebrow in question.

“I didn’t realize… but I should have considering…” she continued, casually drawing invisible circles in the area between them with one hand. After several passes, she gestured toward him. “You and…”

Her word choice didn’t sit right in Jason’s gut. He felt tense and furrowed his brown. “Ah Applesauce! Out with it already, Doll, what are you getting at?!”

Stephanie had the good sense to bite back her line of comments. A deep breath later, she took several steps into the front office. “Not to be unkind, but really?! This isn’t what I imagined when he mentioned…” She paused as she glanced down at the tiny secretarial area of the front office. “I mean to say, are all… great detective’s… offices… like this? Look like this, you know?”

Despite his frustration, Jason unfurrowed his brow slightly along with the fist, which he had unconsciously balled up. He let her words sink in and side glanced around him.

Sure, the place had seen better days and it wasn’t the biggest front office in the Bent Building. In the morning light, its least favorable traits were a stark contrast to the recently remodeled hallway, but Jason never gave it much thought. It was his home.

“I assume, Mr. Todd, that you don’t currently have a secretary,” Stephanie both asked and commented. He took note quickly how she purposefully emphasized the use of Todd over Jason.

That didn’t sit right with him as he watched her further inspect the room. Few people were allowed to call him by his first name. And since he’d already told her to call him by it, her redacting without his prompting felt wrong. So maybe he was starting to feel a bit miffed.

“No,” he said bluntly with no real thought.

Jason really did not like her inferring the mess reflected his lifestyle. He lived by what he could afford. Little to no work meant adjustments had to be made, and he felt lucky enough to have a roof over his head this time of year. And it wasn’t like his famous parents hadn’t taught how to take care of himself – cleaning and cooking. He just had priorities.

“No, I haven’t for a bit, but that doesn’t….” He paused in defending his home to more seriously scrutinize his front office.

It was unlikely to make the front page of the society column or whatever the gum-shoe weekly equivalent. True, the puke colored wall paper took getting used to, and it was peeling off the walls in various corners of the room. There was dust and grime on the windows of the both the front door and the adjoining door to his private office. One of the ceiling’s light bulbs was flicking in and out. And there was a giant dark blotch on the ceiling. The fuddy-duddy quack upstairs over filled his over-sized medical bath tub, leaking into Jason’s ceiling.

Also, nothing had been put away in its proper place, since Barbara left to return to her job at Gotham Central Library. He had tried to keep to keep her organization tactics but gave up over three months ago. Now, there were papers scattered about. In fact, the tiny desk was messy pile of old newspapers, irrelevant evidence, and past case files.

“Don’t snap your top, Mr. Todd, but I think you need to get a lady in,” Stephanie bluntly told him. “My ma always says cleanliness is next to Godliness?”

With a grumble, Jason crossed his arms. “It is clean. Clean enough, that is. It’s just… just lived in!”

Over her right shoulder, Stephanie threw him with a sly smile. Her long blond curls cascaded behind her. “Is that what you blue collar bachelors call it? Lived in?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. He felt his cheeks grow warm. “And I don’t care what you’re… Wait!” He stopped in rebuffing her when she began to open the door to his private office. If she thought this room was bad, he dreaded her reaction to the room he worked, ate, and slept in.

“In fact, I can recommend…” she began before he slammed the door shut in front of her. “Hey!”

“No thanks,” he said hurriedly, pressing his back against the door and forcing a large grin on his face. “Really. I like it like this. Helps me to think.”

Leaning back, she gave him an incredulous smirk. “This way? Really?”

He nodded fervently.

Her smile turned to a look of surprise. “Really?!” she asked again more insistent this time.

When he nodded once more, that kink in her lips returned. “You gumshoes are an odd bunch.”

He watched with some surprise as she reached toward him. More specifically, she started to correct his hurriedly buttoned shirt as if he’d asked her. Her actions dumbfounded him to the point that he almost missed what she was saying.

“And quite surprising. I mean that as a compliment by the way. Such problem-solvers. Always thinking outside of the box, but yet never keeping it a very organized box. So interesting. Compliment again. You’re certainly much more than he said.” By time she started to chuckle again to herself, she had somehow managed to properly button his entire shirt and smooth out the more obvious wrinkles.

Jason blinked at her handy work for a good long moment. He almost hated to interrupt her, but her choice of words caught him off guard. “Someone talking about me in a complimentary way?”

When Stephanie’s gaze lifted to meet his, the smile on her face dwindled. It was as if for the first time, she realized what she was doing. Her hands snapped behind her. “I’m so sorry. Really sorry, Mr. Todd.” She took a quick series of steps back from him. “Force of habit… for my employer. Cleanliness and all that.”

Jason noticed a light tint color her face. Her hands were clasping her purse tightly behind her back. Stephanie looked uncomfortable as if her mask of boldness had fallen away. He thought she look even more stunning. His frustration calmed.

With a sigh, Jason rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. But maybe we should get back on topic. Your employer and his case?”

Stephanie straightened up before releasing a breath she must have been holding. “Right. Let me start by asking, do you read the newspaper, Mr. Todd… Jason?”

The use of his name made him smile. He definitely guessed they were right back on track. “Sure. Who doesn’t?”

“Then you will probably have seen, if not heard about the terrible tragedy that befell my employer last Friday,” she started to explain. “My employer had been away at Brentwood Academy for the better part of the past three years.”

“Wait a second.” Jason stopped her. “What precisely is your job?”

“Personal assistant,” she said simply at first, flashing a grin. Then, she stopped and shook her head. “No. That’s no really accurate. Too general, isn’t it? I suppose I act as his personal bookkeeper, secretary, and communicator for anyone who wants to get a hold of him. He’s a very private person – my employer. I help to keep him appraised of his accounts and daily schedule without unnecessarily bogging him down with pointless tasks and correspondences. Someone of his status has much better things to be doing and too many people vying for his attention. Especially with being on the board of trusties for his family’s company.”

There was a sarcastic comment on Jason’s lips. He’d met many men like the employer she was describing. Snobbish fat-heads and fuddy-duddies who thought they were better than everyone else. They tended to lounge around their private, indoor pools and take travel to far off places on frivolous trips. Still, Jason held his comment back from leaping off his tongue. “Okay. Go on.”

“While I do have occasion to go to see him at the school, I usually remain in Gotham, which I was on the night in question. About two weeks before, his parents had asked me to convey a letter to him about important family matters that would affect his future. I can’t be more specific, because it was both a pre-sealed letter I sent to him, and his parents made it clear it was for his eyes only. I was just to make sure it went to the right address,” she told Jason, lowering her head for a moment. She started to dig through her purse as she went on. “And so on Friday, he took the train into Gotham. I have a ticket stub and train schedule to prove all of this, if you require it.”

Jason simply waved her off. “I’ll take your word for now.”

She nodded a few times, pocketing a few folded sheets of paper. Instead of closing her pursue, she continued to dig in it as she spoke. “Unfortunately, it had been delayed, so he didn’t get in until well after six at night. I know this, because I met him at the station with his personal roadster, so he could drive home without further delay.”

“And you went to his estate with him?” Jason interrupted again. He was very specific in his choice of words, hoping to narrow down who was her employer as well as her actions on the night in question. When she glanced at him with a smile, he figured he was on the right track.

Stephanie shook her head and plainly answered, “No. I’m afraid I had my own personal matters to get to that night, so I left him to drive on his own. He’s a licensed driver with a good record, not known for being careless or a drunkard.”

“So I’m assuming anything else you know about the incident in question is according to him?” Jason asked.

There was a moment of hesitation on Stephanie’s side. Her ruby red lips kinked, but this time in a nervous way. “Well,” she started to say, making a wide gesture. She stopped, nibbling on her lower lip.

This action was not missed by Jason. He made no comment, but took note for later.

After a second more of hesitation, she finally went on. “I mean… that and what the newspapers are reporting. I tend to believe… my employer’s firsthand account. I trust him, fully. Would you like me to go on?”

“Perhaps,” Jason said at first in a thoughtful matter. He knew it would be good to hear her version to fill in gaps, but he also wanted to give his possible client first chance. “But I think I’d prefer hearing first person from the man himself first. In fact, I think Mr. Timothy Drake would be a much more effective source, wouldn’t you agree?”

That cute kink in her ruby red lips returned. “I had no doubt you’d deduce it.” She produced and hand card to him. “He told me to give this to you, whether or not you figured it out before I told you. You are as clever as he says.”

“Clever me?” questioned Jason as his eyebrows bounced up his forehead. He gave a quick shrug, letting the statement hang in the air. A smug smile curved his lips.

That got a chuckle out of Stephanie.

With a shake of his head, he got back on point as he glanced down at the business card. “So I presume, the young Mr. Drake is looking for someone to solve who murdered his parents. The wheels of justice are moving too slow for someone like him?”

Stephanie again bit her lower lip, before shaking her head. “No. Not exactly. It’s… it’s a bit more complicated. Quite possibly unbelievable. I think it would be best if my employer talked with you on that matter. He should be able to answer your questions in a meeting at his penthouse. Some time today would be preferable.”

“Swell,” Jason replied, mentally rolling over the possibilities that might complicate any job from an heir of one of Gotham’s richest families. Some of them left him feeling very uneasy. “Better to get first meetings down and over, I always say. How’s about one this afternoon?”

“I’m afraid he has a lunch meeting at that time until at least a quarter to two. Make it a little after two,” Stephanie contoured. “Timothy, can squeeze you in then.”

“Okay,” Jason agreed without hesitation. He offered his hand, which Stephanie quickly accepted. “It’s a deal. And may I say it was a pleasure to meet you, Stephanie. I hope we can do it again soon.”

“I have a feeling,” Stephanie replied. “If you do decide to take this case, we might be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

 

_To be continued…_


	2. The Man Behind the Case...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting to know the assistant, Jason finally comes face to face with the man who's hiring him. He's just about to start to understand the case he's accepting.

At five minutes to two o’clock, Jason was standing outside of the Broderick Building. Timothy Drake’s current residency was on the fifty-second floor. The neighborhood had all the glitz and glamor one would expect for the area where most of the megabucks were spent. No trash or drunkard in sight. Probably well-paid flatfoots on almost every street corner. There was a spiffy dressed man at the front door of the Broderick Building. An elegant gold and red elevator with a shiny conductor to take him up to the penthouse floors.

In no time, he was at Drake’s penthouse door.

After he rattled off steady rhythm against the towering door, Jason’s thoughts turned to the fine looking dame who invited him. For a moment, he dared to hope Stephanie would be the one to open the door. He was missing that cute kink of ruby red.

When the door glided opened, a grumpy looking geezer with thinning hair stood tall over Jason. “May I help you, sir?” His voice sounded nasally and very condescending. He gave Jason a once over look.

A small bit of confidence rushed out of Jason as the smartly dressed man in black and white looked down his nose at Jason.

When Jason didn’t immediately respond, the man asked, “Do you have the wrong address perhaps, sir?”

Shaking his head, Jason fixed the man with a frown. He squared his shoulders and held himself up as tall as he could. “Nope. I have an appointment with Mr. Drake. A little after two.”

The geezer’s eyes narrowed as if not believing him.

Flashing the business card that Stephanie had given him, Jason added, “Detective Jason Todd. He should be expecting me.”

“Yes.” Despite recognizing Jason’s name, there was still a look of repugnance on the geezer’s face. “I see. Please follow me, sir.” He gestured for Jason to enter.

Upon entering, Jason couldn’t help the breath being knock out of him. He caught sight of the shear vastness of the home. His whole office space would fit in in only part of the main room. “Wow. Some digs.” He also noticed a subtle warm aroma in the air. It was actually quite relaxing.

A cough pulled him back to the geezer – butler, Jason guessed. “May I take your overcoat, sir?”

Gripping the lapels of his coat, he gave the geezer a sideways glance. There was only a breath of a hesitance. Then, he handed his coat over.

When the butler moved away with it, Jason took the time to examine the large room further.

As his brother taught him, he first took note of all five doors besides the front door. Knowing your exits could be the difference between life and death. The most eye-catching was a double set of doors, where Jason picked up the faint murmur of voices coming from. He guessed his client might be there.

Jason was glad for a moment take in the place his client called home. Now, he began to understand the reasons behind Stephanie’s shell-shocked reaction to his office. This place was the complete opposite. Everything in this room probably cost more than his highest paid case. And it looked better maintained. It probably spoke volumes about Timothy Drake.

Jason made a mental note to take Stephanie up on her offer for a cleaning lady.

“Might have to tip into the shoe leather account, but it might be worth it,” Jason muttered to himself.

Most interesting to him was how the room seemed sub-divided into three separate areas. One side of the room, there was a lit fireplace with some three high backed, cushy seats and one small sofa with end tables. A third of the room was taken up with a semi-circle of two, large sofas and some six matching, cushy barrel backed chairs. They surrounded a medium-sized, glass coffee table with a medium sized radio set in the center and a neatly stacked pile of books. The last area, just left of the fireplace was a small, neatly organized desk with a covered typewriter and a stack of folders. Beside the desk were two shelves and a three, metal filing cabinets as well as two barrel backed, wooden chairs.

Jason commented, “A guy could live in a room like this.”

A forced cough reminded Jason he wasn’t alone. Turning around, the butler gave him another one of his critical glares. Then, he gestured toward the fireplace seating area. “If you would wait over there, Mister …”

“Detective,” Jason corrected, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Detective,” the older man said with a tone of disdain. “I’ll tell, Master Drake, you have arrived. I’m sure he will be with you shortly.” Then, he turned on his heels, not waiting for Jason to reply.

“Swell,” Jason replied out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t wait to see the butler enter the room with the double doors. Instead, he strode quickly over to the fireplace. Rather than take a seat, he took a moment to warm his hands over the fire. It was nice to be someplace that wasn’t just above freezing. A smile crept across his face as he rubbed his hands together.

The moment of silence also gave Jason a chance to wrack his brain. With Barbara’s assistance at the library, he looked up the published facts on the murders of Jack and Janet Drake. He needed to know just what he might be getting himself into with a client like Timothy Drake.

Sighing, he muttered, “Like Richard says, know your allies, because they could easily become your enemies.”

Probably a good bit of advice, since Jason was somewhat inexperienced with murder cases. His first had been the murder of his and Richard’s parents many years ago. He had been but a boy then.

Other than that, Jason had been lucky to have a flatfoot as a brother. He had the connections with the GPD and took the time to teach him the tricks and dangers behind such a case. Even though Richard had left the force over two years ago, Jason tried to keep to heart Richard’s lessons and maintain those flatfoot connections.

That included this case related to the Drake Murders. On Friday night, Timothy Drake found the brutally murdered bodies of his parents as well as their personal cook and butler. Black and white photos of the butler’s and the cook’s bodies appeared in many of the articles. It was the kind of sight to make one lose their lunch.

The cops later found the front and side doors unlocked and one window in the study was blown outward. The power to the mansion had been cut. Several pieces of furniture were overturned in the study and the kitchen. None of the valuable art or jewelry had been disturbed.

Checking with his most reliable GPD source, he had looked in on Commissioner Gordon – Richard’s former boss and father-in-law. Gordon had confirmed that there were no current leads on a suspect, much less a motive. Only thing Gordon could add was that a few indistinguishable footprints in the icy mud had been found near the tree line at the end of the back garden. They hadn’t led to anything so far.

In the end, it all added up to bumpkis.

Sighing, Jason finally took a seat in one of the high backed chairs. For a long moment, he stared at the crackling fire before him. Then, he heard creak of a pair of doors opening up.

The sound of a raised voice rang out. Jason glanced around the chair just in time to see two people emerge from the now open double doors.

“I have said my piece.” A youngish man, probably sixteen years old led the wave of five individuals. He had short black hair smoothed back and his threads looked very smart. It made Jason actually feel his threads were quite shabby.

A far taller and older looking man with a dark complexion and salt and pepper colored hair followed closely behind the young man. With a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, the two stopped before the radio seating area. “I understand, Mr. Drake. And I’m sure Bruce does as well. And we appreciate your situation and patience.” He removed his hand only to shoulder on his coat offered by another man. “But you must understand, that there are not many more alterations we can make for such an important contract. Your company is getting more out of it than us. And it is time sensitive. You only hurt yourself and your employees if this falls through.” He paused as a shorter man behind him took the files in his arms. “In fact, I hear you’ve had to lay off another 100 this past weekend.”

There was a deep grimace on Mr. Drake’s face. “Unfortunately, yes, Mr. Fox. But all the more reason to do right by those that remain.” With a deep sigh, Timothy pinched the bridge of his nose. “This would be all much more efficient, if Mr. Wayne would just meet with me in person. I’m sure then we…”

“I’m afraid, Mr. Wayne, is quite tied up with other… activities,” Mr. Fox said in a tone that spoke of the number times he probably already answered similar comments from the young man.

Wayne. Jason knew that name. Most of Gotham knew who Wayne was. He just had that sort of reputation. Hard not to when his face appeared in almost every newspaper and tabloid on a weekly basis.

“I’ll be in contact with your assistant as soon as I can,” Mr. Fox replied, before tipping his hat toward Stephanie who emerged with an armful of folders. “Have a good day, Mr. Drake. Miss Brown.”

Stephanie gave him a polite smile. Then she briskly walked over to the small desk. On the way, she did look in Jason’s direction. There he saw the cute kink in ruby red lips.

“Thank you, Mr. Fox. Give my best regards to Mr. Wayne.”

Mr. Fox nodded, before following after his colleagues to the front door.

Only at that point did Timothy finally turn to face Jason. This was the first time Jason got a good look at the young Mr. Timothy Jackson Drake. The persona Jason had read up on didn’t do the kid justice. Yes, Timothy did look ever the kid. But he was definitely was more like eighteen. And his eyes might suggest even older, if Jason didn’t already know his actual age from records.

“Detective Todd, I presume,” said Timothy, striding towards Jason.

Quickly Jason was on his feet. He smoothed out his best but old suit, and then extended out a hand. “Yes, sir. And I presume you are…”

The words left Jason’s tongue when he saw Timothy abruptly stop in his tracks a few feet away. The younger man’s face became one big frown. For several long seconds, Jason stood there feeling like a fool. He didn’t know what to do as he watched Timothy tilt his head one way. His lips were moving back and forth as he was trying to think of something.

“Despite his… rustic appearance, I can assure you, Timothy, he is Detective Jason Todd.” Stephanie stepped up beside Timothy, before flashing Jason another of her cutely kinked ruby red smiles.

Shaking his head slightly, Timothy said, “Yes. Sorry. I… I… never mind.” He took Jason’s hand and shook it firmly. A bit firmer than was necessary. It spoke a bit more toward his inexperience, but Jason kept that thought to himself. “I’m glad you could come over at such notice. Please take a seat.”

Returning to his seat, Jason watched as Timothy sat almost opposite from him He half expected, half hoped Stephanie would join them. Instead, Timothy excused her to return to her desk a few feet away.

Even in his seated position, Timothy had a sobering presence in the room. Two piercing bluish green eyes stared right at Jason. They were the sort of critical eyes that pierced through any deception.

“I think it would be best to just get right down, don’t you?” inquired Jason, retrieving a note pad and pencil from his jacket pocket.

“Agreed,” said Timothy, leaning back.

“Please tell me in your own words what happened Friday night,” Jason requested, “especially after you left Miss Brown. We’ll build from there.”

“Well, Detective Todd, I arrived at my parents’ estate a little after seven at night. The drive was long, even for a Friday night traffic in Gotham, but I got there and made no stops on my way. It had been too long since I last saw them, so I wanted to get home as soon as possible,” Timothy explained.

His posture was relaxed, except for his fist resting on the arm rest of the chair. He appeared to be putting on an act of calmness and controlled. That actually unnerved Jason more than a bit.

“I had expected someone to notice my arrival. Both the dining room and the kitchen have a window facing the drive. But no one came,” Timothy explained.

Jason nodded, taking a few notes as Timothy went on.

“Grabbing my bag, I headed for the door. Oddly, it was unlocked, but I assumed at the time, it was because of me. Now I know otherwise.” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His somber face grew sadder.

“Go on, Mr. Drake,” Jason encouraged.

Tim nodded, but it took in a few seconds. He leaned forward a bit. “You see this is when I really started to get worried. The main hall into the mansion was near pitch black. I was confused at first. I thought maybe the power had gone out again. It had the habit after a large storm or power surge with the estate being so far outside of the city, but… my parents long ago had a back-up generator installed for those times.”

“I can confirm that, Mr. Todd,” Stephanie piped up from her tiny desk. Glancing in her direction, Jason saw her turned away from her typewriter. “I had been there during last winter’s huge storm. When the power was knocked out, it took only a few minutes to come back on.”

“And that’s what troubled me, Detective,” Timothy piped up. “The power remained off. I stood a good four minutes waiting, but no light came on and I heard no voices in the darkened mansion. I was worried to say the least. So, I retrieved a flashlight from the desk draw in the hall and began to seek out anyone.”

“You swept the whole house, Mr. Drake?”

“As much as I could in the dark. It was difficult to see anything, even with a flashlight. I checked the dining room first. Saw no one. Then continued to the drawing room and kitchen.”

“Did you make a stop in the study?” Jason asked. “I mean since it seemed like a lot of what the cops found was in there.”

“I admit I only glanced in,” Timothy explained. “And I did notice furniture out of place, but I assumed Edward moved it to clean, and was stopped when the power went out. It wasn’t until I got to the kitchen that I realized how wrong I was.”

“That’s where you found the first two bodies?” Jason careful how he asked his question. Still, he took great care to watch how Timothy reacted. He had to know for sure whether he wasn’t getting the bum rap and being set up by a murderer.”

Jason noticed how the kid’s throat tightened and his breathing suddenly sped up. Slowly, he nodded.

“I see,” Jason said, taking time to write down notes on the facts and Tim’s reaction. “Look I know you eventually found the bodies, so we can move beyond that. Did you see or hear anything strange during your search?” Jason inquired, tapping on the small notepad with his pencil. “Anything at all.”

“Nothing you’d believe, I doubt,” Timothy said with a heavy sigh, folding his hands together. “The police most certainly never did.”

That got Jason’s attention. Gradually Jason raised an eyebrow. He straightened his back, pushing his jacket out of his lap. “Oh? Really? How’s that?”

A snort if amusement fell from Timothy’s lips. “It’s a line of investigation the police haven’t sought. Basically refuse to accept.”

“Go on,” Jason told him.

“I know the truth. I’ve never been so sure of something in my whole life. And I know it will lead to my parent’s murderer,” Timothy said with a great sense of conviction.

“Oh, and what’s or who’s that?” Jason pressed.

“The Batman,” Timothy said simply.

Jason furrowed his brow. “The Batman? As in the urban legend Batman?”

“Yes,” Tim said with a resolute head nod. He gave Jason a hopeful look.

A dull silence fell between Timothy and Jason. For a long moment, Jason just stared perplexed at the kid.

“Are… are you serious?” Jason asked credulously. He openly chuckled to himself, trying unsuccessfully to muffle it with one hand.

When he looked at Timothy again, he saw a very crossed look on the kid’s face.

“Really?” Jason asked again with a grin. “You do know he… it isn’t real, right?”

Like lightening, Timothy snapped to his feet. “He is real!”

With a wave of his hand, Jason smirked. “No, the Batman is something meant to scare criminals and naughty children who sneak out at night. It’s been around even when my father was a kid. I know. My brother and I always made up stories about Gotham’s Dark Knight hunting down bad men and…”

There were words best not spoken. So what if as a child he had imagined Batman saving his and Richard’s parents at the very last minute? It was better than watching in horror as their bodies hit the center ring with a sickening thud. He still had nightmares of their lifeless bodies being covered up and taken away from them. So what if he imagined Batman coming in his orphanage window at night and asking Jason to join him in a quest to get justice for his parents?

Just thinking about those memories made his stomach ache something terrible.

“Detective Todd.” The sharp tone of Timothy pulled Jason back from his memories.

Coughing, Jason shook his head loose from his daydream. “The point being…”

“No the point being is that Batman is real. I don’t care if the fools of Gotham Police Department or even all of Gotham refuse to believe it. I know it!”

“Okay,” Jason said, holding his hands up. “Ease up, kid.”

Without another word, Timothy marched over to Stephanie’s desk. She only glanced briefly at Timothy, before returning to her typing. Timothy grabbed a book from one of the shelves. Actually, as Timothy came back, Jason noted it was a photo album. “I know he’s real. More than that, I know he was involved in some way with my parents’ death. Maybe he even did it himself.”

Jason maintained his skeptical expression. His mouth was flatten the best he could. He kept his head up to face the kid. “Alright, kid, what makes you think that?”

“I’ve seen him,” Timothy explained, handing over the album. The kid dropped into the seat right next to Jason. “Look!”

Timothy flipped open the album. On the first page, there were an array of mostly blurry images. Squinting, Jason kind of thought he could make out dark figures, but it might have been a trick of the camera or just shadows. The kid kept flipping pages showing more blurry images. Eventually, they came to pages with newspaper clippings about successful sting operations of cops at various warehouses and factories across Gotham.

“I’ve been following the Batman for years. Ever since I was a kid, I so strongly believed in him that I’d go hunting for him.” There was such earnestness in the kids eyes, Jason didn’t want to chew him out any further.

Instead, he pointed out the obvious. He used his best concerned tone. “Not exactly the safest thing for a kid. Especially not in Gotham.”

Timothy ignored Jason’s comment. “And… and a few times I… I caught sight of him… or his comrades.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his smoothed back hair. “And these supposed successes of the great GPD are a smokescreen. They weren’t done by flatfoots!”

“No?” Jason said questioningly, speed reading through a few of the articles. He had a rough idea of their locations across the city and recalled reading a few of them over the last several months.

“No,” Timothy said defiantly. “They were simply taking credit, covering up for the Batman.”

“Like some sort of conspiracy?” Jason shifted his gaze to Timothy.

“Yes! Well, maybe they fear him or are working for him. I don’t know. I’m just theorizing on that part.”

“You know what I think…” Slowly, closing the photo album, Jason gave Timothy a serious look. “I think you’re the only one theorizing… about all of this. I get it. You lost your parents. That… can be very hard on a kid. Trust me, I know.”

There was a flash of anger in those piercing bluish eyes. “I’m not a kid! And I’m not making it up! I know what I know and I know what I saw too!”

“Okay. Okay. Ease up,” Jason finally relented, holding his hands up again. “Just to avoid argument, let’s say you’re right. The Batman is real. You’re going to need real evidence of his existence to convince anyone, even me. I need to know what I’m hunting is more than a blur on a camera lens or speculation.”

Much to Jason’s surprise there was a broad smirk spreading over Timothy’s lips. “I have this!” From his vest pocket he produced dark colored, curved object with a series of three razor edges. It wasn’t much bigger than Timothy’s pointer finger and was near pitch black in color. Jason swore it kind of looked like the tip of a bat wing. “I found it under the chair my father… his body was found in.”

Jason couldn’t help how one of his eyebrows arched up. He drew in a long breath and considered the one in the million chance this was all real. Batman – real life vigilante who hunted bad men. He felt an internal nudge from the kid inside him.

Blowing out the breath he had been holding, he leaned closer to Timothy. “Alright, kid, I’m listening.”

 

_To be continued…_


	3. On a knife edge in the woods...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason should have known better than to go out into the woods alone. You never know who or what might cut you off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped this wouldn't be the last chapter before Dec 15th, but I have not completed editing the last chapters. But I promise to get them done before Christmas, so please stay tuned. Updates very soon!

Early Wednesday afternoon, Jason found himself at the Drake Estate. With Timothy’s help and the permission of Commissioner Gordon, Jason was given access to the crime scene of the Drake Murders. Of course, if he found anything vital, Gordon ordered him to report it immediately. Jason had given his usual ragging retort, which had earned him a glare over the top of the old man's spectacles.

Unfortunately, the inside of the house produced bumpkis. Everything had been cataloged and marked in the files on the case. The flatfoots had done a thorough enough job for once. The only interesting piece of evidence – the tip of a bat-shaped item – was in the possession of Timothy. That was probably a safe place for it for now.

Batman. The thought still unnerved him and excited him at the same time. He tried to quiet the kid inside of him. So what if there might be a scrap of proof of the Batman's existence? That didn't mean anything. And Jason didn't know whether the Batman would be friend or foe in this case. He needed more evidence.

Thus, Jason took a different line of investigation. He decided to try to figure out how the intruder or intruders got to the Drake Estates and left. Considering how far it was from Gotham City, there weren’t many options without drawing attention to themselves. No one strange had been spotted clogging it across private property or on the road. No unfamiliar cars had been reported by eagle eye megabucks residences. And no strange, winged crates were seen or heard taking off or landing anywhere on the hillside that day or night.

Jason turned to the only possible direction left – the bottom of the garden. He remembered the unusual footprints that Gordon mentioned. With photos of the approximate area of the footprints and their location, he went hunting. The expansive tree line was a good 100 yards at least from the back of the mansion and stretched well beyond the Drake’s property.

Despite much of the weekend's snowfall melted away, Jason thought he found the location. Searching the ground, Jason sought out the muddy prints. But the ground looked to have softened and been trampled over. He guessed by Gotham flatfoots.

Still, he scanned the area. He hoped to pick up something they missed. Maybe there were more tracks or some tiny piece of fiber or hair from whoever created them.

Just then, there was a crashing sound as if something shook a mass of tree branches. His gaze was drawn up to a particular tree. He expected to see a retreating squirrel or birds suddenly taking off. He saw neither.

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up.

Putting the photos back into internal coat pocket next to his gun, Jason slowly stepped toward the tree. It was just on the cusp of the thick forest. There weren’t many leaves to obscure anything or anyone hiding in it.

Moving cautiously around it, Jason carefully inspected it from branch to trunk. He sought out any creature or explanation for the noise. After a long moment of finding bumpkis, Jason sighed. He thought for sure his mind was playing tricks on him. Lowering his head, he shook it and prepared to return to his investigation.

With eyes on the ground, he suddenly noticed footprints. Not the ones in the photos. These were too new and clear. And they were smaller. Maybe they belonged to a small woman or a child.

Crouching, he studied them more closely. They appeared to be a size four or five at most, if they were a woman's feet. Trailing his finger along the top area, he picked up that most of the weight was place on the ball of the foot, because that had been pressed further down into the mud.

"No. That's not right," he openly muttered to himself.

Adjusting his angle around the footprints, Jason saw the depth was due to two separate footprints. Yes. Jason was convinced looking at them that there were two distinct sets here. A lighter set had endeavored to hide in the steps of the other, but the treads were not consistently matching up.

“Now that’s keen,” murmured Jason, glancing at the trail of footprints leading off. They weaved their way deeper into the woods and away from the house. “What’s the chance the murderers would come back? I suppose just as likely as a kid or a dame being a suspect. Still, it's a lead.”

Rising to his feet, Jason straightened his coat and then headed after the trail.

The forest was thick and wild. Trees jutted out almost randomly. Bushes were barbed and badly shaped. Clearly, it was a natural boundary to keep people out. Over tree roots and through shrubs, Jason travelled forward. He stumbled more than once and caught his overcoat even more often on one poking tree branch after another.

All the time he kept his eyes on the trail, taking note if either of the prints disappeared. Eventually, one did vanish. The lighter prints just seemed to float away. It was right before a small, rushing stream.

The stream was a good two strides wide, but not that deep. He should be able to get across, if he didn’t mind getting a little wet. He hesitated there for a few seconds. The thought of wet shoes didn’t sit right with him.

Then, he noticed the slightly heavier set of footprints continued on the other side of the stream.

Biting his curses, he stepped into the icy and rocky water. Only his shoes and socks were soaked. It sent chills up his spine, but he pushed onward. Another five minutes more, just beyond a towering Great Oak, he found the second trail suddenly stopped as well.

Between shivers, Jason openly cursed. “What am I doing?” He puffed out an icy breath as he hugged himself. “It’s freezing cold and I got wet feet. And I have no idea where I’m going or an exit strategy if I’m waking right into a trap. Batman or no Batman. This is madness!” He huffed out another breath and started to turn to return the way he came.

He’d taken a good three steps back towards the towering oak before he heard a sharp whistle. Jason froze on the spot as something about the low pitched noise was familiar. He was suddenly taken back to his childhood at Haley’s Circus. The sound usually accompanied the roar of a crowd. Then, like a brief but strong wind, something cut through the air just over his head. It missed the top of his head but made a loud thumping against the towering oak before him.

Blinking, he stared mostly bewildered at a knife suddenly embedded in the side of the oak. He swore it wasn’t there before. That thought made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He remembered now.

As a boy, he would sneak out early in the morning to watch the Great Bambino practice his knife throwing act from the stands. The sound they made slicing through the air was hard to forget. Then, one day, the Great Bambino tripped and one of his knifes went wide. Jason remembered it slicing by his left ear. He still had a tiny scar on the top of the lobe.

“Holy mackerel!” Jason’s eyes were wide as he gasp for air. For a very long time, he just stared at the knife sticking out of the grayish wood.

Then, he turned sharply. He expected to see someone standing just beyond. No one. His gaze rose to the treetops. Still, no one. In that same moment, his eyes suddenly narrowed and the chill of earlier melted away from his thoughts.

“Really? Really?! You throw a knife at a guy and you don’t even stay around to take credit. What kind of killer are you?!” He marched over to the knife and gripped the handled. It took a few tugs and curses under his breath before it got it out of the wood. “I don’t know if you are the worst knife thrower or just that damn good. And if this… this trick is meant to spook me, well you got it all wrong!”

Heavy frustrated breaths fell from his lips as he stared intently at the simple, black hilt of the slightly curved blade. Fixing his gaze on the way he had been heading, all thought of going back left his mind. Instead, he marched onward.

With one hand on his gun, Jason kept his eyes peeled for any further movement or noises. He heard none as he eventually saw the trees start to give way. First, the sunlight started to breakthrough. Then, a large expansive clearing spread out before him. He blinked, stepping into the new area.

Shielding his eyes, he squinted at the bright beyond. He could just make out a massive house. He had a moment where he feared he might have just gone in circles and ended up back at the Drakes’ mansion. Still, Jason dared to take a few more steps out on to the muddy lawn to be sure.

The second he did, Jason heard a loud thump behind him as if something hit the ground. Turning sharply on his heel, his hand instinctively started to pull his gun from his pocket. He pulled it only part way out before he saw the new arrival.

There, a mere few feet in front of him, stood a well-dressed boy. His eyes were an intense brown and solely focused on Jason. The boy’s lips were flat and looked on the verge of a snarl. “What are you doing here?”

“Funny,” Jason spat out with a smirk. He put his gun back in place. Amusement pushed aside his anger for the moment. “I was about to ask you the same thing, kid.”

“Tt. I live here,” the boy snarled. He crossed his arms and slowly started to tread around Jason. He seemed to be maintaining a distance of a few feet. All the while, the little booger was scrutinizing him.

“You mean this isn’t still the Drake Estate?” He watched closely the boy’s too casual movements. There was a precision to his footfalls and confident stride.

“What?! No, you fat-head,” the boy said cruelly. “The Drakes’ property ends at the stream. You’re on the Wayne Estate now. And we don’t like trespassers, especially flatfoots.”

Raising a critical eyebrow, he gave the little booger a quick once over look. It only took a second to see how many greenbacks this boy oozed in his manner and threads. “And you’re a Wayne, I’m guessing.”

“Damian Wayne,” the boy said proudly. Jason half thought he might stick out his chest and flash his feathers with the amount of pride he flourished.

“Wayne…” Jason said more thoughtfully, turning to glance at the massive building in the distance behind him. “Is that what that building is? Interesting.”

Now, it was the boy who wore a perplexed glare. He stopped between Jason and the distant house. “How so?”

“Just…. something someone mentioned once. Look, never mind. Say, you haven’t been naughty and venturing on to the Drake property, have you?”

“Tt. Why would I do that? It’s an active crime scene. Only a fat-head would do that.” The little booger glared at Jason as if to insinuate he saw just such a fat-head in front of him.

“Shows what you know, kid. I’m a detective, not some flatfoot.” This time Jason was the one with a proud grin. While the cases didn’t always paid out big greenbacks, he still enjoyed the work. He was proud of his accomplishments.

“Really?” Damian asked with a skeptical tone. “Prove it. Where’s your detective license?”

Despite having no real reason, Jason still wanted rub the little booger’s nose in it. Reaching into his inside pocket, he pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open to show the little booger. “Here.”

For the first time, Damian took steps closer to Jason. He leaned forward on his tip-toes. With a furrowed brow, he squinted at the text and the small photo Jason had shoved right next to it.

The kid’s lips moved as he read the license. Then, he looked up at Jason and back at the license a few times. Somewhere around the third glance up, the little booger’s eyes suddenly widened and he stared at Jason a bit longer. He appeared to be examining him. Finally, a deep frown formed on the young face. “What’s the G stand for?”

“Huh?” he responded at first. He squished the idea of busting the kid’s chops any further. He was wasting time as it was any way. “Oh. Just my last name.”

Damian took a step back and crossed his arms. His head was tilted to one side with a fixed look on Jason. “So Todd isn’t your last name?” the boy inquired.

“Nope,” Jason replied simply, snapping his wallet closed and pocketing it.

“Then, why? Why aren’t you using your actual last name? Embarrassing, is it?” Damian inquired.

Jason blew out a breath as he shoved his wallet back into his back pocket. Icy moisture tickled at the corners of his eyes. “No. Not that. It’s a name. And sometimes we choose… we…” he tried to explain, but his chest suddenly felt tight. He coughed, shifting his coat a bit higher up his neck. “Look, I simply chose to go by my middle name. Todd’s a nice last name. I’m not judged or bothered with unwanted attention. It’s something to make my own. You know what I mean, kid?”

There was a pause. Then, Damian nodded. “Yes. I think I do.” He squinted at Jason. “But what is your real last name?”

“Look kid, I’ll answer your question, if you’ll answer one of mine,” Jason offered, starting to feel uncomfortable. He blamed it on his still wet feet. “How about that?”

There was a pause as a look of contemplation washed over the booger’s face. Jason had never seen someone so young think so deeply about anything. He almost wanted to chuckle, if he wasn’t starting to feel a chill. Finally, Damian answered, “That would be acceptable.”

Pulling the knife out of his pocket, Jason held it, with the blade facing downward. He made sure it was eye level, so the booger could see it clearly. Jason made sure to keep an eye on him as well. He wanted to know if there was any sort of recognition from the booger, just in case he decided to lie.

“Alright, have you been throwing knifes in the woods? Something like this one?” Jason inquired. Being kind, he even gave the booger an excuse in hopes he wouldn’t lie. “Maybe because daddy dearest doesn’t like you doing it in the house.”

There was a perturbed look on the booger’s face. Jason suspected he might have hit a nerve, or maybe Damian just didn’t like the suggestion. “No,” he said, taking a long look at the knife Jason held out. “That’s not even the type of knife I use. It’s… it’s… not mine! So there!” He crossed his arms and gave Jason a deep frown. He acted like Jason was grilling him instead of fulfilling his end of an agreement.

Jason was definitely amused but also a bit worried. “You have a type of knife?”

The kid nonchalantly shrugged.

Rolling his eyes, he pocketed the knife. “Okay. Okay. So, let me get this straight, you haven’t been adventuring into an active crime scene. Or practicing knife throwing. But… have you see anyone else doing either?”

“No.” he said simply.

“No, you haven’t seen anyone?” asked Jason for clarification.

“No.”

Maybe it was the cold mixed with the rumble in his stomach, but this booger was on Jason’s last nerve. Not wanting to blow his top at a kid, Jason threw his hands up in the air and drew in a deep breath. “Swell. Just swell. You’ve been loads of help, Kid. Thanks!” He shook his head and glanced back into the woods. He estimated it would take him less than thirty minutes to get back to the Drake’s place. “Look, I’ve got to go. And I’m sure someone will be looking for you. So have a good day.”

Just as he turned and started to step back into the wooded area, he heard the boy call after. “Hey! Hey!!”

Jason stopped in step and drew in another deep breath. He wasn’t in the mood for any more annoyance from a ten year old. Partially glancing over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow at the little booger. “What?”

Huffing out his own icy breath, Damian glared at Jason. “You promised!”

Jason felt confused, until he remembered his part of the deal. “Oh! What G stands for?”

“Yes!” Damian said angrily.

With a grin on his face, Jason responded. “Grayson. Happy now?”

He almost relished the way Damian’s face just dropped. He thought for sure he bashed any big ideas the rich, little booger had. He might have said as much, if he didn’t have a job to get back to.

So, Jason just turned and continued back to the Drake Estate.

oOo

The sun had long since set by the time Jason returned to his office.

Before grabbing lunch, he fought his way through traffic to drop off Richard’s old crate. Then, he spent the better part of two hours in line at the lunch counter. After that, he spent the rest of his evening at the library. He wanted to see if he could figure what newspaper articles, in the last several years, could be tied to the Batman. Once he had a rough list, he headed home to his office to compare against the stack he kept.

Drawing in a breath, he rounded the top of the stairs and headed straight to his office. As he drew out the key from his pocket, he heard a forced cough. His gaze snapped forward to stop on a small, young woman standing in front of his office door.

Despite the oversized coat, which was clearly two sizes too big, she looked like a small, fragile thing. Her pale features were in stark contrast to the black coat, skirt, and wide brim hat. Neither hid her dark brown eyes or small, thin smile.

“Ah, hello? May I help you, Doll?” Jason said approaching slowly. “It’s a bit late to be out and about in this city for someone like you.”

There was a hint of a knowing smile and glint of something else in her dark eyes. The woman reached into her purse. Then, she spoke in very broken English. “I clean for… for Mr. Todd.” She waved an open envelope in his direction. “Yes?”

Once close enough, he took the envelope and pulled the letter out. The header of the letter immediately grabbed his attention:

_Timothy Jackson Drake_

Skimming the letter quickly, he saw it was signed by Stephanie Brown.

“Oh! You must be the cleaning lady.”

A broad smile curved her pink lips. “Yes. Clean.”

“Um,” Jason felt nervous. He scratched the back of his neck.

Jason wasn’t expecting Stephanie to send someone so quickly. Not that he would complain. He surely needed the help.

“Good.” He reached out a hand to the girl. “My name is Jason. Jason Todd. And your name?”

The girl took his hand firmly and shook it with one ridge motion. Jason had to bit his tongue to stop of cringing at the strength of her grip. For someone who looked so fragile, she surely wasn't weak.

She took a moment, before reply in a calm voice. “Cass.”

He smiled back. “It’s good to meet you, Cass, but I hate to say this it’s a bit late to clean. I mean I respect your desire to get started, but… but it’s more than a night’s worth to tackle.” Out of the corner of his mouth, he added, “Maybe even more than a week’s.”

“Pardon?” she said questioningly. Her head was slightly tilted, and those eyes of hers were very focused in on his face. He actually felt himself start to blush.

With a cough, he shook his head. “Nothing. Look… come back… tomorrow. Morning, if possible. Can you?”

“To-marrrr-ow?” she said slowly as if she was trying to understand. Her eyes narrowed slightly as her head tilted the other way.

With both hands, he gestures an arch in the air and repeated. “Yes. To-marrrr-ow. Tomorrow morning. Okay?”

After a moment, the young woman finally nodded with a small smile. “Yes. To-marrr-ow. Yes.”

“Good,” Jason said with a new smile.

“Good. Bye. Bye.” She gave him a small wave, before turning on her hell and heading away.

He returned it. Then, he sighed and entered his office. Walking sleepily across the front office to his private one, he gave a loud yawn. This way and that he stretched his stiff muscles, and at the same time, pulled off his coat and jacket.

As he had done many times before, he was about to deposit them on his desk. Then, he thought about the cleaning girl he had just met. “Best not to make her job any harder than it will already be.”

For once, he went over to the tipped over coat rack. He sat it up right again and hung both jacket and coat. Then he tugged his tie free and laid it over the top of his jacket. Turning his attention to his shirt, he began to unbutton it.

Then, his office phone began to ring. He moved over and picked up the receiver. “Hello? This is Detective Jason Todd. How may I help you?”

“Good to hear your voice, Little Wing,” said the familiar upbeat voice of his big brother.

A smirk crept across Jason’s lips as he took a seat on his desk. “You too, Dick. I haven’t seen or heard from you in almost a week now. Wayne keeping you that busy.”

A loud chuckle echoed from the other end of the line. “Something like that.”

“Well, I imagined it was that or Barbara’s being keeping you busy,” Jason commented. Then, he paused, glancing toward his coat on the rack. 

The knife came back to mind in a rush.  It was still a mystery to him, and he thought perhaps Richard might be of help. Either he’d remember something more about the sorts of knifes that the Great Bimbino used or something he’d know from his time as a flatfoot. “Say, I’m actually glad you called…”

Another chuckle. “That’s a first. I was starting to think I was just an annoyance you put up with. Maybe better off waiting for the holidays.”

Jason shook his head. “Hey! I like the food trips, too. About the only thing keeping me going some days. Thank Barbara for me, by the way.”

“I’ll pass that along to her,” Richard said. “Look I actually can’t talk long. I just wanted to make sure your new case is going okay.”

With a sigh, Jason rolled his eyes. “As well as can be expected. Drake is a bit of a freak, but he’s on the level enough.”

“Drake? As in the Drake Murders,” Richard commented. There was a pause the length of more than one breath. Then, his brother drew out a long whistle. “Be careful there, Little Wing. That can get tricky fast. Those with moolah can be finicky and unpredictable." Another pause followed, and Jason swore he could hear a second voice in a hushed tone. "Sure you should be doing it.”

Jason nodded feverishly. “I know. I know. But I’m being careful. Always looking for my exit strategies and keeping ahead in the information race when it comes to this one. Besides, it’s not the murders I’m investigating any way.”

This time there was an uncomfortable stretch of a pause. No whistle or hushed voices in the background. For second, Jason thought Richard had been disconnected or something. Then finally, he heard his brother. He sound uncomfortable or maybe just distracted. “No? Then, what?”

Jason considered telling his brother about the Batman theory. He usually shared nearly everything about his cases with Richard. How else was he supposed to get the help or insight he might need? But for once, he feared his brother’s reaction to that sort of news. This time it was all based on a chunk of black metal that may or may not be the tip to a bat-shaped item. Despite a shared history of Batman stories that their father once told them, Jason still hestiated.

Lucky for him, Richard spoke up before Jason could. “Look, never mind for now. We can talk about it all when I stop over tomorrow morning. I’ll bring another of Barbara’s great sandwiches and some hot coffee.”

A new smile played over Jason’s lips. “Alright. I’ll see you then. Bye!”

_To be continued…_


	4. The Hidden Face...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason realizes he might just be in over his head...

Morning greeted Jason in a rather too annoyingly cheerful tone. “Rise and shine, Sleepy Head.”

Jason felt too beat to respond. The dreams of wingless flight high above a cheering crowd was too tempting to leave. So, he buried himself further into the raised collar of his coat.

A roar of laughter one second proceeded his feet being knocked off his desk. Jason tumbled forward and barely caught himself on the edge of his desk. His eyes snapped opened and sought out the morning disturbance.

When his blurry vision began to clear, he spotted the beaming face of Richard leaning over him.

He gave him a dirty look, rubbing his tired eyes. A few choice curves bubbled up his throat.

“What's cookin', Little Wing?” Richard asked with a teasing tone.

“Dick!” finally swore Jason.

“I know. I know. You were probably dreaming of a yummy meal, like this.” He plopped a grease stained, brown paper bag down in front of Jason. “Barbara says hi and you’re welcome, by the way.”

Jason’s brain was a bit sluggish on connecting the dots. He blinked at the bag for a minute. He even dared to prod it. Then, his sensitive nose told him instantly it was freshly cut roast beef with provolone, tomatoes, and slathered with homemade spicy mustard on a thick cut of rye bread. That’s when last night’s conversation came rushing back.

“Ah applesauce!” Without hesitation, he pulled the wrapped sandwich out of the bag. He only paused long enough to mutter a thank you to Richard. Then, he unwrapped it and began devouring the hot meal.

The aroma didn’t lie. The bread was nicely grilled and was rich in the juices of the freshly cut beef and mustard. And the creamy provolone cheese was the perfect balance to the sharp and the salty flavors.

“You are one lucky dog, Dick,” Jason said with a mouthful. He could help making happy noises.

“I know.” Richard chuckled to himself. “Oh! I almost forgot. This coffee is for you, too.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he reached for it without hesitation. He downed a gulp of the steaming hot mud. “Oh, that’s good. God, I needed that.”

“Can’t have my favorite little brother starving now, can I?” As Richard spoke, Jason heard a soft rustle of newspaper. Opening his eyes partially, he noticed that Richard was side eyeing a short stack of articles beside him. More specifically, he was casually going through Jason’s work from last night.

Jason spent his last waking hours narrowing down the list of possible leads on the Batman. He’d cut the specific articles out of his own backlog of newspapers to figure out the more likely and most recent leads on the night-time vigilante. Most interesting to Jason, most of the liking events appeared to be centered on the East Docks and in the Industrial District. Thus, he organized them according to the two areas as well as chronologically and other key traits mentioned in the articles. He planned on making a stop at the first sometime today.

When Richard began to take apart the piles to look at them, Jason spared a greasy hand to slap his brother’s arm. “Quit it!”

Richard put on a hurt expression. “Sorry. Just curious. Wanted to know what my little brother’s been up to since last we spoke.”

“Doesn’t mean you mess with my stuff.” Jason gave him a warning look.

Crossing his arms, Richard gave Jason his full attention. “I mean, you mentioned on the phone about working a case. Something connected to the Drake Murders?”

A partial grimace crossed Jason’s face as he looked down at the sandwich in his hand. “Kind of… kind of not. Look, it’s complicated and I’ve only started really digging into it.”

“Oh? Anything I can help you with? I know you and I aren't partners anymore, but I’m always here for you.” A nudge into his shoulder got Jason to look up at his brother again. He was now perched on the corner of the desk. “Come on. Talk to me, Little Wing.”

Jason sighed, trying to not appear as tense as his shoulders felt. A mixture of emotions coursed through him. Of course, he wanted to seek out Richard's help. His brother had always been one of his most reliable sources of information, for help getting other sources, and for advice on procedure. This case felt different in so many ways. For starters, Jason basing a lot on faith in a legend and a rich kid’s word.

“I really appreciate the offer, Dick, but..." He paused. Instead, he took an exceedingly long sip from the coffee. It helped him buy time to collect his thoughts and figure out what he was going to do. "And not to say, I don't think you could be helpful. This..." He placed a hand on the stack of articles and notes, patting them lightly. "This is still very much in the works. I have a lot to figure out. My client – Mr. Timothy Drake – has reason to believe he knows who killed his parents or knows something about it.”

Jason watched Richard's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “What?! Really?!” Richard leaned in closer. “I… I was under the impression that the police…”

Coughing, Jason waved off Richard. “The police don’t believe him. I can’t blame them. The theory is just wacky. Mad, even. I highly doubt it, too.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed. His lips pursed, moving in and out slowly. “Then… then why did you take the case?”

That was actually a really good question. One that Jason wasn't sure he could fully answer yet. At least, he couldn't yet. It was the leading reason he couldn't ask Richard for help. The whole concept was based on an urban legend of a lone dark knight vigilante. He wouldn’t even know what Richard could help with precisely. Much less, he didn’t know whether Richard would believe him or call him just as wacky as Timothy.

The kid inside him told him he was crazy not to believe. His logical side said he was crazy if he did. Right now, it was just a wacky hunch that he had just had to see through. That meant going it alone, for now. 

For the first time, Jason completely put down the sandwich. “Because…” He started and stopped speaking to wipe his mouth free of mustard and beef juice. “Because… there’s more than just the theory.”

“You have… proof then? Richard offered with an open hand extended between them.

Jason looked at the hand. For a good three seconds, he had a flash back to the time Richard taught him how to walk a tight rope. He'd always held out his hand. It was not simply to guide his little brother. Rather, it was a reminder Jason that there was always a hand there to take if Jason ever felt unstable or about to fall. That was the most important thing about being an acrobat. Always putting trust in your aerial partner to be there to catch you, if you fall.

Jason couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. He wanted to take the offered hand. He didn’t.

Smashing his grin down, he fixed Richard with flat expression. “Yeah, or something like it. Look, call me mad, but I trust the kid.”

Slowly, Richard retracted his hand, placing it back into its position on his bicep. His own smile faded. “Swell. Just be careful. Remember what I told you."

Jason nodded rapidly up and down many times over. As his hands returned to the sandwich, he muttered. "I know." He took another bite from his sandwich. "I know. I’m keeping ahead as far as I can from the client. I know the drill. This isn’t my first show, you know.”

“Good.” His serious expression only stayed a moment more, before a new grin curved his lips. Richard reached across and ruffled Jason’s messy, black locks. “Because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my favorite little brother.”

A chortle tumbled past the crumbs in Jason’s mouth. He playfully swatted away Richard's hand. “Hey! Only little brother.” He flashed a sly smirk. “Unless you’ve been hiding something from me.”

He expected a chuckle from Richard. Laughing was like second nature to him, since they were kids. Instead, Jason noted Richard suddenly seemed distracted. His gaze shifted away from Jason. It was as if he suddenly found the mess that was Jason’s office more interesting.

That gave Jason pause in his thinking. He waited, not even daring to continue to chew his food. All attention was locked on his older brother. An air of unease filled the gap of time. It nagged at Jason like a sore muscle.

Finally, Jason couldn’t take it anymore. “Dick?”

Instead of instantly turning back to face Jason, Richard rose from his seated position. He began to pace the office. “Been awhile.” He said it in a way that would suggest contemplation. “Forgot what this placed looked like.” Richard finally glanced in Jason’s direction with a raised eyebrow. “Bit messier than I remember. Didn’t Barbara…”

Swallow the mouthful, Jason nonchalantly said, “Been busy.”

Richard nodded slowly as he glanced around once more. He turned about, stepping up to the coat rack and examining the jacket and hat hanging there. He drew in another deep breath, before turning to face Jason again. “I thought the Drake Murder case was recent? So what else have you been up to these last few weeks and months?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. First, there was the missing Persian Hell beast case.” He stopped, flashing a sarcastic grin. “Oh! Just guess where I finally found it.”

"Um." Richard gave a shrug and a shake of the head. “No idea.”

“Down a sewer drain outside the brownstone. The beast fell down, probably chasing a rodent. Had to fish it out myself. Ugh.”

Richard cringed. “Sounds stinky.”

“Yeah, took two days to get the smell out of my jacket,” Jason commented. Then, he pointed to a pile of documents on the corner of his desk. “Before that, some old biddy lost an expensive, diamond necklace. Some fuddy-duddy heirloom. That just ended up to being down the cushions of drawing room’s sofa. And before that…”

Shutting his eyes and nodding his hand, Richard gestured for Jason to stop. “I get it, Jay. I get. All dud cases.”

“And nothing but peanuts for my troubles,” Jason spat angrily, before taking another big bite of the sandwich.

“Maybe you need to filter your clients a bit better.” Richard approached, taking each step with purpose. “Maybe…

“Would if I could,” Jason said through another mouthful, “but beggers can’t be choose. I need the moolah or I’m out on the street, going hungry. And the big clients aren’t seeking a third rate detective out.”

Rubbing his chin, Richard narrowed his eyes for a moment at Jason. “Probably would help if you cleaned up a bit. Leftover milk bottles and dusty old newspapers left about don't give a good vibe to an potential client."

A puff of laughter fell from Jason’s lips. “You are not the first person to point that out to me, and I already have it covered. My client, well, more specifically his fine looking assistant has set me up with a cleaning lady. Still in the early days, but I think she’ll work out.”

“Oh?” Richard seemed genuinely surprised. “I didn’t… I mean, that’s nice. Who is she?”

"Mr. Todd?" The familiar voice of Cass came from the front office as Jason heard the squeak of the front office’s door opening. “You in?”

“Ah, I think that would be her now. I told her to stop by this morning." He rose and wiped his hands against the back of his trousers. Striding across the office, he reached for his jacket. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Cass.” He slid on the jacket and exited his private office.

He spotted Cass, placing her coat and hat on the messy, small desk. She smoothed out her dress, before lifting her gaze in his direction. "Hello!" Her voice was as soft as he remembered. And for the first time, he realized she wasn’t half bad to look at. Nowhere near as stunning as Stephanie, at least to Jason, but Cass was definitely easy on the eyes.

"Good morning, Cass!" Jason greeted, walking up to her. He reached out to shake hands, and noticed how she hesitated. In fact, she leaned back from him for a moment. Her gaze flickered to outstretched hand and up again. "Uhhhh..."

At first, he wasn't sure why. Then, he remembered where he was standing. “Sorry. I probably should have warned you.”

Her eyes widened. She seemed to be looking in multiple places at once. “Yes, yes. Very… very dirty. Much work.”

“I had hoped Stephanie would give you some idea how bad, but yeah. Sorry again. I do have some supplies left by my last secretary, but if you have something special…” He paused when he realized she wasn’t looking at him anymore. "... you use..." His words finally died on his tongue when he noticed Cass’ gaze narrowed, locking in on a point behind Jason.

Glancing back toward his private office doorway, he saw Richard standing rigidly still in it. “Ah! Yes. I don’t think you’ve met my brother, Richard. He was just stopping by for a visit.”

“Bro-th-er,” Cass said simply. Her head tilted one way in a thoughtful manner. “Yes.”

Jason flashed a smile in her direction. Unnervingly, she didn't seem to notice. A deep frown turned down her face. She seemed only focused on Richard’s presence, but not in a good way. Jason sorrow he could feel the tension in the air.

“Jason.” Richard’s voice suddenly sounded very cold and unyielding. He hadn’t heard that tone from his older brother, since the day Richard ended their partnership. “We need to talk… in private in your office. Now.”

Jason's gaze snapped wide-eyed in Richard's direction. "What? Can it wait, I need to…"

"Now!" Richard reemphasized the word, before turning and disappearing into the private office.

Slowly nodding, more to himself, he looked back at Cass. Her gaze was still focused to the doorway. “Okay. Okay.” He gestured over his shoulder toward the door. "I'll be right back. Promise. Just go ahead and get yourself familiar with the room. You should be able to find the cleaning supplies in the top two drawers of the cabinet just next to the secretary desk. Thank you again.”

For the first time, since she arrived, her gaze returned to him. She blinked at him for a second as if she just remembered he was there. A renewed smile spread across her face. "Yes. Thank… you, Mr. Todd"

Then on his heel, Jason turned and returned to his private office. "Okay, what going on...?" Before he could finish his question, he felt the door slam behind him. "What the...?"

He glance just in time to see his brother come up behind him with a frown. He cut Jason off. "If you know what’s good for you, you will listen to me and listen to me closely. Get her out of here. Now!"

Jason felt backed into a corner. He just blinked, feeling a cold sensation of unease wash over him. "What?"

"You heard me. She does not stay here in any capacity. Fire her, and do it now." There was no mistaking the tone of anger to Richard's voice. He literally pushed Jason back until his legs pressed against his desk.

"What? Why? What's she done to...?" The questions came out quicker than Jason had time to actually consider what he was asking or process what Richard was demanding of him.

"Doesn't matter why or what she’s done, just..." Richard dismissal of explanation hit the last nerve.

Jason just snapped. "Of course, it matters!" Jason practically yelled as he gave Richard a shove to back up off him. He felt his temper boil. "If you can't give me a reason..."

"I don't trust her," Richard said simply. He acted as if that was all was required.

Jason gawked at Richard with a furrowed brow. "A legitimate reason! And I don’t care if you trust her. I do. At least I don't have any reason not to.”

There was an expression of utter shock on Richard’s face. Jason wasn’t sure why, but he honestly no longer cared. He didn’t like being told what to do. He never had, and Richard, of all people, should know that. “Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” angrily spat Jason, giving Richard another hard shove. “And I don’t have to take orders from you either. If you can’t be civil with the help, much less me, then I don’t need or want you here right now. Got enough stuff on my mind without you discrimating against a poor Doll just trying to do an honest day’s work.”

This time it was Richard gawking. “What? I’m not…”

“I don’t care!” Jason practically yelled.

He saw Richard’s mouth snapped closed as Jason pointed at his door.

“Get out! I got work to get done. And I’m guessing Wayne Industries is calling. Now scram!”

oOo

Later that afternoon, Jason stood on one of the upper levels of an abandon warehouse on the East Docks. All official records identified it as a disused foreign import facility for the last two years. Besides a few abandon crates and pieces of large equipment, the place was empty. It wasn’t rundown by any stretch of imagination. The windows and exterior looked well-kept and dust only coated the corners and machinery.

Still, the building had been used. No less than twice in the last six months GPD flatfoots held sting operations in this and several other supposedly disused warehouses. Of course, that was according to articles in the Gotham Gazette and the Gotham Spotlight. Gordon, with some pressure, supplied the official reports. They supported the articles, supplying on the barest of further details

Despite that, Jason had his doubts. Reading between the lines suggested other agents of justice – the vigilante kind.

First, the criminals were hung by their feet from the ceiling. Photos on the report showed the police cutting them down. Why would they be hung upside down? That wasn’t a common method even for an undercover flatfoot. It served little purpose, only further issue for the GPD.

Second, injuries on the suspects suggested a fist fight between them and their apprehenders. But that rarely was a strategy for flatfoots. Additionally, none of the flatfoots in the report had been recorded having been injured in any way. Not even a bruised knuckle from punching a suspect. How was that possible?

Third, there was a discrepancy in time between the arrival of the flatfoots and the time the suspects were hung upside down. Jason could figure out no good reason why the flatfoots would wait so long to get them down. Even an undercover flatfoot wouldn’t wait that long to contact the GPD.

Finally, more than one of the preps mentioned something about a darkly dressed, masked man. Some say the figure seemed to glide through the air effortlessly. If that didn’t sound like a description of the Batman, Jason didn’t know what would.

That’s why Jason had come to check out the scene. It had long since been abandoned by the police. And after scooping out the scene, Jason saw no evidence of any current low-life utilizing it. Thus, he could take time to see if there was any further evidence, proof, of the Batman or his involvement.

Currently, he was looking at the steel girder that held up criminals. While the rope was gone, he did find minuscule fibers and long worn down scratches. He suspected these were made from the rope that held them. The series of marks were very circular and jagged as they lined a five yard length of the beam. They were expertly spaced, probably to keep the criminals from freeing each other or bumping into one another.

Looking straight down from the beam, Jason saw it was a two-story drop from there. With an amused smile, he could imagine how the sight would deter most people from even trying to free themselves. Jason was not most. It was the benefit of being raised on a tight rope. But…

Glancing back up at the beam, he furrowed his brow. Jason had to admit, he didn’t know how the Batman or whoever had managed to get the criminals up there with little to no fight. That was a puzzle.

As he pondered that thought, something on the other side of the floor grated level caught his gaze. It was like a black glistening object. Even in the dimly lit building, it stood out to Jason. “I wonder…”

Blinking, he walked over to the steel extension bridge further across the building.

From this distance, he wasn’t sure what it was. Without further thought into it, he strode across the bridge with no hesitation. He’d trailed far thinner and less stable walkways and tight ropes.

Once on the other side, he came face to face with a partially toppled but still towering stack of wooden crates. Between a middle set of three crates, there was a small gap. He crouched down, gazed inside the dark depths to see the object that caught his attention. It appeared wedged in place, perhaps even partially embedded into the wood of one of the crates.

Reaching to grab it, he realized with some frustration it was just beyond his fingertips. “What the blazes!” Jason angrily exclaimed. He squinted at it, trying to get a better fix on the object. As his eyes adapted to the even darker interior, the objects finer points came into focus.

A sharp intake of breath blew past his lips. He couldn’t believe it for a minute. It looked like a bat-shaped item.

Much like Timothy’s it was metallic and black. The edges along the curved wings were jagged. The difference was that it was whole. From tip to tip the curved object looked exactly like the outline of a bat, but motionless and silent.

“Ah applesauce! It does look like a bat!” Jason couldn’t help but grin at the sight. A thrill rushed through him. He definitely now wanted to get his hands on it.

Taking a step back from the crates, he examined if there was any other way to gain access besides the small gap. Walking this way and that around it, he eventually spied a small space. Far too small for him to fit through with his broad shoulders. Unlike his brother, he had never been as flexible. His mother used to say he was built for strength and speed.

He grumbled to himself. “I suppose I could go and come back later with some help or at least a forklift.”

“Or just leave,” spat a sharped tone voice. It held a distinct, staccato accent. “And don’t ever come back.”

Jason turned on the spot to face the dimly lit warehouse space. He saw no one. Even stepping up to the railing and glancing down, he still saw no one.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“Detective Jason Todd.” The voice sound as if it was bouncing off every wall and crate in the place. “You no idea of trouble you stumble on. One warning. Leave. Leave all alone… or else.”

Jason never liked being told what to do or how to do it. That was a trait that ran in the family. It often led to him butting heads with his brother, like this past morning.

“This place you mean? You know its abandon, right? Or is that why you and you group…?”

The voice cut him off. Now, it sounded much closer. He glanced behind him and swore for a moment, it came from behind the crates. “And Drake case. Leave it! Not for you!”

The poor grammar was what really caught Jason’s attention. It made him surer the talker was a foreigner. But his specific words also grabbed him. They made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “How do you know…?”

“No more warnings.” The sharp voice said.

“Enough!” Interrupted a new voice. “Show, no talk!”

Something about the words sent Jason’s hand into his interior pocket. However, even as he pulled it out, he saw a shadow move straight at him. He took five steps quickly backwards and raised his gun. In a flash, a hand struck out.

The gun flew across the metallic grated level. As he watched it fly away, he felt a fist strike him in the stomach. Jason grunted, doubling over, but not before raising an arm to block a third strike.

Despite the pain shooting through his abdomen, he felt the impact on his arm and readied his own punches. The first connected with someone, not sure where, but the second and third missed. He didn’t have enough time to regret it as a second person struck from behind him. It felt like a kick to the back of his leg followed by another one to the right shoulder of the arm he had been using.

“Ah!” Jason cried out as he felt his shoulder dislocate. Falling forward, his face was pressed up against the metal grating of the floor. As he cried out again, he felt multiple hands grab and lift him off the floor.

“Foolish… Westerner!” The hissed words were followed by a series of punches to Jason’s face and chest. After a moment, he was left breathless and just hung from the grasp of his attackers. “Stay away! No question!”

Jason could feel his eye begin to swell up as he drew in several ragged breaths. His blurry vision could just make out a darkly dressed person. From head to toe, he was almost completely dressed in black clothing, expect for the area around the eyes. Two piercing eyes glared at Jason as a the main attacker held up two fingers looking as if he was about to strike him in a very painful way.

Jason involuntarily cringed as he heard the hiss of warning. “Or you die!”

“No!” The response caused a frigid silence amongst his attackers. Out of his one good eye, he saw they all froze in place and looked to a point high above them.

As if given a silent order, they let him go. He dropped on to his hands and knees. He felt blood run from his mouth as he coughed. He could barely hear the retreating footsteps of his attackers as a new set landed a mere feet away.

With what strength he could find, Jason raised his head in the direction of the sound. There also dressed in complete black stood a figure. Not a very tall one but he seemed to just ooze confidence and authority.

“I suppose…” Jason tried to breathe out as he gripped his aching chest. “I should… thank you.”

“No.” The darkly dress figure narrowed his sharply drawn eyes. “Listen. Leave Drake case. For you good. No more warning.” Then, without warning, the darkly dress figure dropped something to the ground setting off a giant puff of gray smoke.

When it finally cleared, Jason found himself alone once again in the warehouse. The words of warning still echoing in the cold, dark spaces surrounding him.

He drew in a long ,shaky breath. “What the Hell just happened?”

 

To be continued... in the next story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, let me say, this story really took on a life of its own. Your prompt was so good, I couldn't just create a single story. It became a whole universe on itself. Still...
> 
> Since I wanted to give you a complete Christmas gift, I'm going to leave this story on a cliff-hanger. It will pick up on sequels to come. My goal is to get the next story up within the next two to three weeks, picking up where this one left off.
> 
> Will Jason heed the warning or defy it? Who are the darkly dressed figures and what are their connection with the Batman? And is there facts that Jason is unaware of involving his brother and Cass?
> 
> There's a lot of secrets to uncover, especially since like Jason, you have a whole new Gotham to learn about. So please check back soon.


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